Sarah Jameson

when she heard the question, her eyes danced to eye exactly what shirt it was. sometimes - with the lack of sleep and all the other information slipping between her thoughts, she forgot what she was wearing. if it wasn’t scrubs, it was all up in the air. “urban outfitters,” she admitted with one nod, eyebrows furrowing in thought before she turned to face the blonde again. “men’s section! it works wonders.” 

“Sometimes men’s clothing fits so much better. Like, I refuse to buy women’s flannels,” Sarah agreed, craning her head to get a better look at the girl’s outfit. “Looks cute. I’m just glad it’s finally starting to get a tiny bit cooler at night.” 

looking  down  at  her  blouse  ,  the  woman  shrugged  her  shoulders  .  “  uhhh  i  don’t  know  actually .  my  stylist  bought  it  for  me  .  if  i’m  gonna  guess  ,  GUCCI  dot  COM  ??  “  she  pursed  her  lips  ,  lifting  her  chai  tea  from  the  saucer  plate  it  was  resting  on  ;  pulling  it  to  her  lips  ;  foam  creating  a  mustache  above  her  lip  .   “  why  ??  “  

“I love it,” Sarah gushed, leaning forward to get a better look. “It looks like an entirely different shirt in person. The website made it look like cheap satin. Who do you have styling you, if I may ask? Anyone I would know?” 

Connor almost didn’t hear her, taking a second to process the words as he was lost in thought while drinking his coffee. He glanced up at her, slightly raising an eyebrow before looking down at his shirt–the one he often used when he was painting, one that used to belong to his mother, it had the Star Trek logo on it. “Uhm.” He chewed on his lower lip. “It’s a hand-me-down, I think,” he responded. “So it’s pretty much worn out because of the paint and stuff.”  

“So it’s actually just super worn out,” she mused, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the fabric. It was probably incredibly soft. “A lot of people pay for shirts that look like that. You know, the whole retro vintage thing. But it’s kind of hard to make clothes look authentically weathered. You’re better off with the real thing.”

He cocked his right eyebrow up again, sensing the annoyance and that just kinda egged him on a little bit more. “Offended in the nicest way, beautiful. Tell me. Did something crawl up your ass and die? Or are you not getting laid enough?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, flagging down the bartender for a refill. “Real charming. How about you turn this attention back to that poor girl over there. I’m sure you have a whole set of lines you haven’t used on her yet, ‘love.’” 

Eric regretted his irrational words, he wasn’t a mean person, though for some reason what her claim was set him off. He adjusted his temperament, took a few shallow breaths and picked his head back up to catch her words. “Yeah.. uh i’m a DJ, got a show tonight.” he explained with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Ah, DJ...” Sarah nodded, popping the martini olive into her mouth. “That’s probably really hard.” As soon as it came out of her mouth, she was sure it sounded sarcastic, even if she hadn’t intended it that way. “Do you just do EDM or do you mix in songs with actual words?” 

“You’re right, blondie.” He let out and chuckled a little bit as he shook his head and ordered a shot for himself, taking it down the throat with a burning sensation he loved. “Do you actually get that many emails or are you just trying not to look lonely inside a bar?”

Sarah shot him an unamused look over the rim of her martini glass, one blonde eyebrow arching up to her hairline. “Do I look like I care if I look lonely in a bar?” she diverted, avoiding the question entirely. She’d been backspacing and retyping the same email for at least ten minutes. “This isn’t the bar I would’ve come to if I was looking to impress.”

Eric gladly accepted the beer being slid in his direction, taking a few generous sips from it before setting it down, his gaze adverting to the blonde once more. She truly seemed in distain for his presence but he wasn’t sure why, he’d yet to do anything wrong. “Because I work here… and i’m attempting to enjoy myself before my set.. For your information. Not every guy is buying for your.. desirable attention.. mainly me.” he replied, his lips twisting into a thin line.

Sarah pursed her lips, considering his words. For a while she said nothing, simply sipped her drink before finally turning her attention back to him. “Your set?” she finally settled on, her eyes trained on her fingers which tapped against the bar.

“I wasn’t aware that working as a server wasn’t a job. You know, I get paid a check. Granted it’s shitty, but whatever pays the bills, right?”  He let out and clicked his tongue between his teeth. “Just because I’m not constantly clicking away on a little phone, doesn’t mean I don’t make a living, blondie.”

“You teased me for working too hard, so I teased you for not working hard enough,” Sarah replied with a simple shrug, her face drawn with exaggerated confusion. “What’s the old saying? Don’t dish what you can’t take?” 

Matthew furrowed his eyebrows as he heard someone snort and laugh a little bit as he looked at the one next to him. At least she was pretty. “Stuff like that? I didn’t know people checked their what? Emails in a bar.”

“It’s called a job,” Sarah shot back, downing the last of her martini before picking up her phone. “You know, one that doesn’t pay in tips.” Her eyes flashed to his but her fingers never stopped tapping. 

The blonde was unrecognizable to him, he hadn’t yet met her though he was certain he’d seen her in passing or a fleeting memory of the encounter. She seemed a bit stressed and every part of him told him to avoid, he didn’t want to draw discomfort to an undesirable conversation though he went against his better judgement and took the open seat. “Thank you.” he hummed with a soft smile before ordering himself a drink. “By yourself? Now why’s that?”

Sarah stared straight ahead and breathed deeply through her nose, an attempt to keep her cool. There was nothing about her posture that was inviting conversation, but that didn’t mean she needed to bite the poor guy’s head off. Still, she wished he would leave her alone. Her lips pulled into a tight smile as she finally turned to him, everything about her posture feeling forced. “Because work was a nightmare and I needed a drink. What about yourself? Trying to pick up an unassuming woman? I’ll save you the time, I’m not interested.” 

sarah gadon. twenty nine. cisfemale. she/her ↷ in level eight, apartment 804 you’ll find sarah jameson. she has been living in wisteria apartments as a fashion designer for two years. during that time they have earned the reputation of the spitfire. it makes sense you know, they can be ambitious + focused but let’s not forget they’re pretty hot-headed + explosive. magazines fanned out across a table, sleek blonde hair, red lipstick, a perfectly organized desk

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